


Triple-Feature

by waywardrose



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Making Out, Old-Fashioned living arrangements, Spoilers for The Wolf Man (1941)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 16:10:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20342935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardrose/pseuds/waywardrose
Summary: The Aircadia Drive-In was running a classic-horror triple-feature this Saturday night. You read in the paper they were playing The Wolf Man, Frankenstein, and Dracula. That evening, you rang Flip and asked him out on a date. You even offered to pay.





	Triple-Feature

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous #1: M for flip plsssss  
Anonymous #2: Hey ✌️ may I request prompt M with Flip Zimmerman x reader? Thanks so much! Have a nice day. ❤
> 
> Thanks for the prompt, pumpkin pops! 😘 I’m going to use it as a guideline for this piece. Like for most of my work, have patience with me. I hope you two enjoy it! (Also, I apologize for the wait. I’m slowly getting my groove back.)
> 
> Prompt from the [Fluff Alphabet](https://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com/post/186447745297/fluff-alphabet)

The Aircadia Drive-In was running a classic-horror triple-feature this Saturday night. You read in the paper they were playing _The Wolf Man_, _Frankenstein_, and _Dracula_. That evening, you rang Flip and asked him out on a date. You even offered to pay.

“Are you sure, baby?” he teased. “I wouldn’t want you to break the bank.”

You laughed. “Shut it, Zimmerman! Get your ass over here before eight.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

You could practically hear him salute over the line. The smart-ass. He was lucky he was cute.

The next night, he called you to ask which snacks you wanted to smuggle in. You gasped in faux shock and clutched your invisible pearls.

“Wouldn’t that be _illegal_, Detective?” you asked.

“Well, it would definitely be against Aircadia policy.”

“So we’re going to _violate_ policy?”

“We can do more than that—if you want,” he purred.

You hummed in reply and bit your bottom lip. “You’re a bad influence.”

The smile was evident in his voice when he said: “I like the sound of that.”

“Good, bring a big box of Cracker Jacks.”

“I can do that. How about a six-pack of Coke, too?”

“Sure, we’ll get a sugar high and make-out like teenagers.”

“You know, I could say something cheesy about nothing being as sweet as your lips.”

“You could, but you’re not that cheesy.”

“Nah, I’m not.”

You smiled. “Yeah, neither am I.”

It was quiet for a beat before he sighed. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“Why don’t you move in with me?”

“I want to, but…”

Your parents—your whole family, really—would be scandalized. You could hear your mother saying how you were living in sin. What she didn’t know about your sex life wouldn’t hurt her. While it was your life, and your apparent sin, you didn’t want the drama.

“I’ll take care of you,” he assured. “I love you.”

“God, Flip, I love you, too. So much.” You shook your head, feeling your eyes start to tear. Because you couldn’t give him what he wanted—what you both wanted.

“We spend the night together enough that we’re practically doing it already.”

“I know. Just… Just let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure, baby.”

“I’ll see you on Saturday?”

“Of course. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

You hung up and sagged against the kitchen wall. Flip was right. He was over at your place, or vice versa, enough that you knew how he liked his eggs. He always gave you first crack at the bathroom in the morning and didn’t mind when you were grumpy before your period. He had a set of grooming supplies in your bathroom cabinet. You had met his mother, for Christ’s sake.

As the saying went: It was time to shit or get off the pot.

You had been dating Flip for over a year. You’d been serious for most of that time. He was everything you wanted in a partner. He loved you, and you him, and he never made you doubt him. You wanted him with you for the long haul.

You played with the idea of proposing to him. You were a modern woman. You didn’t need Flip getting on bended knee for you. It could be romantic, even. You imagined staring into his dark eyes while you asked him to be yours. He would say yes, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t laugh at you. Maybe he’d tease you after, but that would be in good fun.

He’d talked to you about the future before. He’d said he didn’t want anyone else. You felt the same. All one of you had to do was pop the question.

* * *

On Saturday, Flip picked you up in his old Plymouth Satellite. It was comfortable, though, with deep bench seating and plenty of leg room. He told you there was a cooler full of Coke in the back floor with a few blankets thrown over it.

You kissed his cheek. “Cracker Jacks?”

“They’re back there. I got chips, too.”

He leaned in and offered his lips for a kiss. You could hardly resist. You held his handsome face and kissed him. It had been over a week since you got to. You could tell he’d recently shaved by the smoothness of his cheeks and the faint crisp scent of his aftershave.

If the beautiful sunset was any indication, it was going to be a lovely, mild night. The sky painted Flip in mellow rose gold. His eyes glittered as he smiled, patted your thigh, and told you to fasten your seatbelt.

The ride to the drive-in was a quick one. He rested his hand on your thigh the whole time. You paid the three-dollar admission fee—like you said you would—and helped him scout out the perfect spot. You found one about midway up in front of the projector house. Between the two of you, you got the car set up just the way you liked it.

Flip opened a Coke for you and told you about his week as it got darker. He didn’t think it very exciting, but you enjoyed his stories. You realized you wanted to hear them every night at dinner.

It was stupid, you recognized as you sipped your cold soda, living apart like you did.

Before you could find the confidence to broach the topic, movie trailers came on. Flip put his arm across the back of the seat, and you scooted closer to rest your head on his upper arm. After a minute, you jerked away as you remembered the snacks. You’d been craving caramel popcorn all week.

You pivoted on the seat and raised yourself to pluck the chips and popcorn from under the rumpled blanket. Suddenly, there was a large hand on your ass. It squeezed you as you looked over your shoulder. Flip was smirking out the windshield. The arm of his you were bent over flexed and moved lower. Then there was another hand on your ass.

“Officer,” you said, pokerface in place. “I would like to report sexual misconduct.”

“That’s a serious charge, ma'am.” He squeezed your rear with both hands this time. “Do you know the offender?”

“Yes, sir. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. I love him a lot, but he’s a very bad man.”

Flip chuckled and fondled you one more time. “I guess we’ll have to track this perp down and teach him he can’t touch beautiful women.”

You lowered yourself back onto the seat, hands occupied with snacks, as you agreed, “Swift vigilante justice.”

He grinned as his palms smoothed over your hips. He angled over your arm to kiss you. His soft lips were sweet from the Coke—as was his tongue. It was easy to relax into it, forget everything. Your lips caught on his, sticky with sugar. He nibbled on your bottom lip before pulling back.

His gaze was heated as he whispered, “I love you, too.”

You smiled and gave him another kiss before offering the bag of chips. He set the bag on his lap to help you settle in once more. You leaned against him as _Frankenstein_ started and opened the unsealed popcorn box. The inside bag was open, too. You were about to ask if he’d done that when he told you he had.

You ate a few kernels and decided you had to be in heaven. Everything you wanted was right here. You thought you should propose tonight. After the movies. You’d invite him up, sit him on the sofa, and ask him. Simple as that.

_Inexplicably_, half the Cracker Jacks disappeared before _Frankenstein_ ended. You pushed aside the little prize envelope and popped a few more kernels in your mouth. As the end credits rolled, you offered a few to Flip. He hummed as he ate and then offered you the chip bag to dip into.

In the ten-minute intermission, you finished your Coke and bent forward to stretch. Flip rubbed your back and asked if you’d found the prize yet. You said you had. You weren’t into the cheap plastic doodads anymore.

“It could be something cool,” he said with a shrug.

“Meh,” you replied. “I doubt it.”

He reached behind the seat and got another Coke, offering you one as well. You declined and leaned against him once he stilled. As the intermission counted down to _The Wolf Man_, he asked about your week. You told him about work and how you finally fixed your running toilet. The super kept blowing you off, so you’d gone to Kmart and bought a toilet kit.

“I would’ve fixed that for you,” Flip said.

“But you’ve been busy, honey. I didn’t want to bug you with that.” You faced him and gave him a little peck. “It was no big thing.”

“Okay, but next time…”

“Next time I’ll have you do it. My shirt was soaked by the time I’d finished.”

He groaned out a _“damn”_ and tilted your chin up for another kiss. “I’m sorry I missed that.” His lips were hot and forceful as he deeply kissed you.

You ran a hand over his chest and to his neck. His skin was feverish, his pulse hammered against your fingers. As you returned his passionate kiss, you teased his ear and combed back his hair.

He gripped your hip and pulled you closer until you were halfway on his lap. He snuck that same hand under your shirt to slide his palm up your torso and cup your breast. He caressed you, gently squeezing and stroking. He found your nipple through the fabric of your bra and gave it a pinch.

You arched against him and gasped at the sharp pleasure, breaking the kiss. Flip didn’t seem to mind because he kissed your jaw and down your neck. His goatee tickled, and his mouth was almost scalding. You felt seared by your mutual desire. You didn’t know someone could make you feel like this.

A car horn blaring out of the blue made you pull away. There was widespread tittering from the cars surrounding Flip’s. You looked around to see if it was directed at his car, but you realized it wasn’t. You guessed it was just another couple making out like you two were.

You met his eyes in the dark and shared a smile.

“Spend the night,” you murmured.

He nodded as his hand returned to your hip. “Okay.”

You kissed him one more time before sliding off his lap. The movie had started who-knew how long ago. It didn’t matter, though. You’d seen it before.

You found the Cracker Jacks again and ate a bit more. Flip slumped on the seat and drank his Coke. You could see the tension in his body, the way the zipper of his jeans was distended. You wondered if you should touch him. You didn’t know if he would be okay with that. A handjob at the drive-in didn’t sound satisfying—seeing as you both weren’t in high school anymore. You could blow him. But the _sounds_ you both made when you did.

What you really wanted was to go home and ride him. The thought of rolling your hips, grinding down on him, taking his thick cock, had you subtly squirming. That strain of unfulfilled arousal was getting to you. If he touched more than your shoulder, you were going to lose it.

Your mouth was dry, and you asked him for a drink.

He said, “Sure, baby.”

You bit your bottom lip at his endearment and watched him twist to get to the cooler. His shirt pulled up enough for you to catch a glimpse of his stomach. You kept a hold on the box to keep yourself from reaching out.

As Flip deftly opened the bottle, you dug through the Cracker Jacks to distract yourself. Even his big hands were too much. You found the prize packet and frowned. It was heavier than the typical packet. Maybe it was two prizes in one packet. You fished it out and placed it on the dashboard.

He gave it a glance before handing over your drink. You thanked him and sipped at it, staring blindly out the windshield. _God_, where the fuck were they now in the movie? The music was swelling as Larry remembers the wolf’s hunger.

The movie ended just as the police arrive at the Talbot home. It’s a good conclusion. Though, you always felt for Larry. It wasn’t his fault. But you understood the symbolism of transforming into a beast as giving in to savage impulses and that civilization had to tame—_or kill_—those impulses.

There was another intermission before the final movie: _Dracula_. You had to use the bathroom, so did Flip, so you both walked down the gravel lane to the public restroom building. The line was short, and you quickly used the facilities.

The walk back was peaceful. Flip took your hand and kissed the back of it. He opened the passenger side door for you, too. As you both settled in the middle of the bench seat, you thought it was time to ask.

“Flip—”

He turned down the speaker hanging on the door. “That Cracker Jack prize looks weird, doesn’t it?”

“Uh…” You glanced at the little packet still on the dashboard. “Yeah. But it doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t know, baby, might be something good.”

“I’ll open it later—”

“No, I think you should open it now,” he pointedly said and nodded to the packet.

Your brows furrowed. You looked at the packet. It was atypical, yes. You looked back at Flip. His face was blank, but there was a tightness around his eyes. Maybe it was a present. He had opened the box, after all. That was so sweet of him.

You gave him a grin and scooped up the packet. On closer inspection, it was obvious someone had carefully opened the packet, put something in it, and glued it closed. You tore it open and dumped the prize onto your palm.

You stared for a second, not comprehending what you saw. It was a _ring_. A gold ring. The band was asymmetrical with two pear-cut rubies stacked next to each other. At the base of each ruby were double bars of small graduated diamonds. Even in the flickering light from the movie screen you could see how brilliant and deep the rubies were.

It was beautiful.

Your eyes swam with tears. You looked at Flip to see him struggling to keep his composure. His eyes had equal parts hope and dread.

He wet his lips before softly asking: “Will you marry me?”

You whimpered as a tear roll down your cheek. He was giving you _an engagement ring_ and _a heart attack_. You put a hand to your tight chest to keep your sob at bay and almost dropped the ring. He caught your shaking hand with both of his.

You nodded, vigorously. A relieved laugh bubbled out before you replied, “Yes!”

He pulled you to him, but you didn’t just want to be close. You fisted the ring and hugged him tighter than you’d ever hugged anyone. You cried into his thick hair. His arms went around you; his embrace fierce. He kissed your neck and relaxed against the seat, taking you with him.

Once you calmed, you steadied his face with your free hand and swooped in to kiss him. You tilted your head and kissed his mouth open. You tasted him and teased his tongue. You drew him closer, sucked on his sweet tongue. It was as sweet as he was. Though, he was _sneaky_.

You paused the kiss to say, “You beat me to the punch, Zimmerman.”

“Oh yeah?”

_“Yeah_, I’ve been working up the nerve to ask you to marry me.”

“You can ask me next time,” he suggested with a cheeky grin.

You barked out a laugh before kissing him again. His lips were so soft and perfect. His hands clutched at your ass as he gave you this slow, dirty grind. You whimpered for a whole new reason now.

Flip broke the kiss, and he panted, “We should get home.”

You nodded, because, yes, home would be good. You slithered sideways off his lap and opened your fist to look at the ring again. He snatched it from you and held it for you to put on. You slid your finger through the ring and studied it. It glittered in the half-light. It was a good fit, too—he must’ve sized one of your other rings.

“Do you like it?” he asked and thumbed away the tracks of your tears.

“I love it.”

“I know it’s not a traditional ring, but I found it at an estate sale last month and thought of you.”

Your gaze darted to his face. “You’ve had this _for a month?”_

“Well, it was at the jeweler’s for a week being resized.”

_“Jesus Christ, Flip,”_ you laughed. “Take me home.”

He leaned in to kiss you one more time before he started the car. “Yes, ma'am.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com)


End file.
